Two of a Kind
by CopperMax
Summary: Maia and Gilan have been partnered for years. Now, they set out to Celtica with apprentice Will and Horace with them. Gilan X OC (follows the events of the burning bridge.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I read the series- fell absolutely head over heels for Gilan... and this happened. Figured I'd post it and see what happens...**

**Read and Review!**

**And before I forget-**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Ranger's Apprentice or anything recognizable.**

**I do own Maia... don't steal her alright. Just don't, okay?**

**~Max**

Will had known she was different the moment he saw her. She was riding beside Gilan on the way to the Ranger Corps, one leg on either side of her Ranger-bred sleek black horse. She didn't ride side saddle as a lady should. A smirk was on her lips and her hair was down, blowing freely in the wind. There was a spark in her eyes and a smirk playing across her lips. She had been a mystery at that point. A strange twist in this new journey.

It seemed he was not the only one to think so. She'd earned many a stare that meeting. Though she stood tall against the oppostition, her shoulders back and head held high, a small smirk on her lips as she snuck a glance to the smiling man beside her.

Will had asked Halt if rangers often had partners. Halt had said no, a ranger's life was a solitary one in most cases. The pair of them were an exception, she was one in herself. The first, and only female ranger there was.

At the camp the two young rangers sat next to each other, laughing and carrying on as if they were the only two people for miles around. It was sweet, actually. Not that either of them noticed the looks cast their way.

Though, when not in Gilan's presence she was nearly silent, arms crossed over her chest and head bowed slightly. She almost melded into the background, fading out of spotlight and becoming a bystander. The smirk, however never left her face, and the spark in her eyes never faded only grew when Gilan winked at her or Halt placed a hand on her shoulder.

Will found she was like Halt in that way. Quiet and observant, though Gilan seemed to bring out something else in her, extracting small breathy laughs and exasperated looks from her otherwise unreadable expression.

That was a while ago. That was also why he laughed out loud when Horace called her 'm'lady'. She had shot him a look, one eyebrow raised and responded with finality, "I am NOT a lady," and then turned on her heel and walked into the forest.

Gilan had been laughing to himself as Horace looked after her dumb-founded. He clapped the boy on his shoulder with a smirk and told him not to worry. She"d be back, most likely with dinner.

"But she is a lady..." the boy had whispered as if afraid she may hear him.

Gilan sighed, "Yes, but not that kind of lady..."

Will had ducked out of that conversation.

"She's clever, cunning, perceptive, and smart as they come... but... not the kind of lady that becomes a diplomat." He paused, as if gathering his words. "Women, even diplomats are expected to be quiet, speak only when spoken to, obey, to cook and clean and take care of the kids. She's not cut out for that. Never has been," Gilan explained. "She's a whole different level of woman."

Horace seemed to understand that.

The message really dug in when he watched her throwng knives hit the center of the target. Every. Single. Time.

He learned to work around her, even with her as they traveled onward to Celtica. He still wasn't quite sure how to act around her, but Will see me to know. Conversing with the strange woman just easily as he didn't anyone else. The two seemed to be growing close.

Funny, that the two smallest members of the group should band together.

That was, when Gilan and she weren't lost in conversation and past exploits. Will and Horace had never seen a pair so at ease with one another, so comfortable with each other.

At the campfire that night she pointed out that Will seemed a bit quiet, lost in his head. Gilan knew first hand the pressures of being apprentice to Halt. She did as well. The there was a lot to live up to.

"Right!" Gilan announced, springing to his feet. "Lessons!"

The two young apprentices glanced to one another.

"Lessons?" Will asked, almost pleading.

She laughed, a smirk on her face.

"That's right," the tall young ranger responded cheerfully. "Even though we're on a mission its up to the two of us," he gestured to her, "to keep up the instruction for you two. Maia, get me my sword will you?"

She rolled her eyes at the request, but conceded.

Horace took up a confused expression, "For me? Why should I be taught any ranger skills?"

She picked up Gilan's sword and scabbard from where they lay beside his saddle and tossed it to him with practiced ease. Catching his effects, he withdrew the long slender blade from its leather receptable with a loving smile.

"Not ranger skills, my boy. Combat skills." Gilan smirked.

"Heaven knows we'll be needing them as sharp as possible," she added picking up her own daggers and throwing blades. "We're on war footing these days."

Gilan nodded before turning to the heaviest boy. "Now let's see about that toothpick you're wearing."

"Oh, right!" Horace said sounding more pleased about the turn of events. He drew his sword confidently, point politely toward the ground.

Gilan stuck his own sword point-down in the ground. Then held out his hand for Horace's, "May I see that, please?"

Horace nodded, hand in him the sword hilt-first.

Gilan hefted it with a calculating look on his face. He swung it a few times, experimentally, a smile growing on his features. "You see this, Will? This is what you look for in a sword."

She smiled at Will's decidedly unimpressed look. "It doesn't look special," he said apologetically.

"It's not how they look that counts," she told him with and upward tilt to her mouth.

"It's how they feel," Gilan explained, "This one, for example. It's well balanced, so you can swing it all day without getting overtired, and the blade is light but strong."

Tossing a throwing knife in the air, she added her own two-cents. "I've seen blades twice that thick snapped in half by a good blow from a cudgel. Fancy ones too," she added catching the knife.

"Sir Rodney says jewels in the hilt are just unnesecary weight," Horace added.

Gilan nodded. "What's more they tend to encourage people to attack you and rob you."

She smiled, throwing up her knife again as Gilan returned to business. "Very well, Horace, we've seen that the sword is good quality. Lets see about its owner."

Horace seemed hesitant. "Sir?" That never ceased to crack her up... him calling Gil sir... ah, priceless.

"Attack me!" He said cheerfully, "Have a swing. Take a whack. Lop my head off."

Gilan wasn't in the guard position, but she knew he was ready. Horace's uncertainty was understandable however. Point downward he gave a helpless gesture.

"Come on, Horace," Gilan smiled, "let's not wait all night!"

"But you see, sir, I'm a trainer warrior." Horace put his sword in the ground.

She hid her smirk. Oh how little he knew...

"True," Gilan said seeming to think about it, "But you been training for less than a year. I shouldn't think you'll chop off too much of me."

Horace looked to her, she purposely ignored him, throwing up yet another knife. Will only shrugged.

Gilan shook his head in mock despair. "Come on, Horace. I do have a vague idea what this is all about."

Horace reluctantly swung a half hearted blow at Gilan who didn't even bother to raise his sword, instead swaying easily to the side, the blade passing harmlessly by completely clear of him.

"Come on! Do it as if you mean it!"

She sheathed her knives watching as Horace swung a fullblooded roundhouse stroke at Gilan.

Gilans sword intercepted Horace's blow with ease, seemingly propelled by only his fingers and wrist. He did so with a grace that she never tired of, that she almost envied.

A ring of steel and Horace stopped, surprised. Maia snickered quietly to herself. Never underestimate a ranger.

"That's better!" Gilan said, "Try again."

Backhands, overhands cuts, round arm swings. Each time, Gilan flicked his sword into position, blocking the stroke.

Horace swung harder and faster. Sweat breaking out on his forehead. Soon, his shirt was soaked.

As Horace's breath came in ragged gasps Gilan deviated from blocking movement. His sword clashed against Horace's. Then it whipped around in a small circular motion so his blade was on top. With a slithering clash, he then twisted his blade down Horace's, forcing the sword point down. As it touched the earth Gilan placed a booted foot on it, hold on it in place.

"Right, that'll do," he regarded the boy calmly. A look in his eye told the boy that practice was over. Gilan knew that sometimes a losing swordsman may try for one last cut- at a time when the opponent considered the fight over.

All too often, it then was.

Horace snapped back lightly. Moving quickly out of reach of the sword.

"Not bad," she appraised, smirking at the boy.

Gilan nodded, sparing a glance over to her she stood, "Not bad is right."

Horace was mortified. "Not bad?" He exclaimed, "It was terrible! I never once looked like..." he trailed off. She smirked at the boy. "I never once managed to break through your guard."

"Well," Gilan began modestly, "I have done this sort of thing before you know."

"Yes," Horace planted, "But your a ranger. Everyone knows rangers don't use swords."

"Apparently, this one does," Will grinned.

Horace smiled warmly in return. Much to his credit.

"You can say that again." He turned respectively towards Gilan. "May I ask where you learned your swordsmanship, sir?"

She snickered once more, taking a seat beside Will who had a knowing smile on his face as he glanced at her.

"I've never seen anything like it."

Gilan's smiled, "There you go again with the 'sir'. My swordmaster was an old man. A northerner named McNeil."

"MacNeil!" Horace whispered in awe.

An amused and somewhat proud and admiring smile graced her features Will noticed as she glanced over to her long-time traveling partner.

"You don't mean the MacNeil? MacNeil of Bannock?" Horace breathed.

Gilan nodded, "He's the one. You've heard of him then?

Horace nodded reverently, "Who hasn't heard of MacNeil?"

Will, tired of not knowing what was going on, spoke up. "Well, I haven't, for one, but I'll make tea if anyone chooses to tell me about him."

She laughed, stoking the small fire they had going on. "Sure thing, Will."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Max here! I'm procrastinating, working on this and a few of my other stories when i really should be studying for my mid-terms... but i just can't seem to focus, ya know? I figure I'll study tomorrow and make-up for it. What do ya think?**

**Well, wish me luck, I suppose!**

**Read and Review!**

"So tell me about this Neil person," Will asked as the four of them were now settled comfortably around the campfire.

She smiled turning and throwing on one leg over the other and laying her head on Gilan's thigh. He only shook his head, used to her antics. He then looked to the two apprentices.

"MacNeil," Horace corrected Will before taking a sip of his herbal tea. "He's a legend."

"Oh he's real enough," Gilan said, "I should know. I practiced under him for five years. I started when I was eleven, then, at fourteen I was apprenticed to Halt. But he always gave me a leave of absence to continue my work under the swordmaster."

"But why did you continue to learn the sword after you started training as a ranger?" Horace asked.

Gilan shrugged, "Maybe people thought it was a shame to waste all that early training. I certainly wanted to continue, and my father is Sir David of Caraway Feif, so I suppose I was given some leeway in the matter."

Horace sat up a bit straighter at the name while Maia seemed to shrink into Gilan's side.

"Battlemaster David?" He was obviously more than a little impressed. He didn't notice the her slight flinch at the name. Gilan did however. He ran hand soothing through her hair. She and his father didn't have the best history, he knew.

"The new supreme commander?"

Gilan nodded smiling at the boy's enthusiasm while running his fingers through his companions hair. "The same," he agreed. Seeing as Will was still in the dark, he explained further, "My father has been appointed supreme commander of the king's armies, since Lord Northolt was murdered. He commanded the cavalry at the battle of Hackham Heath."

Will's eyes widened. "When Morgarath was defeated and driven back into the mountains?"

They nodded, her a bit less enthusiastic than the others.

"Sir Rodney says his coordination of the cavalry with flanking archers in the final stage of battle is a classic of its kind. He still teaches it as an example of perfect tactics. No wonder your father was chosen to replace Lord Northolt."

"So what did your father have to do with this MacNeil character?" Will asked.

"Well," Gilan said, "my father was a former pupil as well. It was only natural that MacNeil would gravitate to his Battleschool wasn't it?"

"I suppose so," Will agreed.

"And it was only natural that I should come under his tutelage as soon as I could swing sword. After all I was a Battlemaster's son."

"So how was it you became a ranger?" Horace questioned. "Weren't you accepted as a knight?"

All three rangers looked at the boy quizzically, somewhat amused at by his assumption that a person only became a ranger after failing to become a knight or warrior. Horace realized his gaggle and attempted to recover. "I mean... you know. Well most of us want to be knights, don't we?"

Will and Gilan exchange glances. Gilan raised his eyebrow and looked down to Maia to see her holding back laughter.

Horace blundered on. "I mean... no offense or anything... but everyone I know wants to be a warrior." His embarrassment lessened as he pointed a finger at Will. "You did yourself, Will, I remember when we were kids you used to say you were going to Battleshchool and you'd become a famous knight!"

Will uncomfortability was obvious, "And you always sneered at me, didn't you, and said I'd be too small?"

"Well, You were!" Horace defense with some heat.

"Is that right?" Will voice was rising. "Well, does it occur to you that maybe Halt had already spoken to Sir Rodney and said he'd wanted me as an apprentice? And that's the reason why I wasn't selected for Battleschool? Has that ever occurred to you?"

She sat straight up, elbow on Gilan's thigh. "I think that's enough of childhood squabbles!" She inturrupted before it got any worse. Gilan nodded firmly in agreement.

"Oh... yes. Right," Will mumbled, "Sorry."

Horace nodded embarrassed. "Me too," the curiosity piqued, he asked, "Is that how it happened, Will? Did Halt tell Sir Rodney not to pick you because he wanted you for a ranger?"

Will dropped his gaze, picking at loose threads on his shirt. "Well... not exactly," he admitted, "And you were right. I did always want to be a knight when I was a kid." But then turning to the two other rangers he quickly added, "But I wouldn't change now! Not for anything!"

The two smiled, her falling back onto Gilan's leg. Will caught the ranger's small smiled as he draped an arm over her, "I was the opposite. Remember I grew up in Battleschool. I may have started my training with MacNeil when I was eleven, but I began my basic training at around nine."

"That must've been wonderful," Horace said with a sigh.

Gilan shook his head. "Not to me. You know what they say about distant pastures always looking greener?" Both boys looked puzzled.

"It means you always want what you haven't got," she clarified, looking almost bored at the topic of discussion.

"Well that's the way I was," Gilan said. "By the time I was twelve, I was sick to death of the discipline and drills and parades." He glanced sidelong at Horace. "There's a bit of that goes on at Battleschool, you know."

"You're telling me," Horace sighed, "Still, the horsemanship and practice combats are fun."

Gilan shrugged, "Maybe, but I was more interested in the life the rangers led. After Hackham Heath, my father and Halt became good friends and Halt used to come visiting. I'd watch him come and go. So mysterious. So adventurous. I started to think what it might be like to come and go as you please. People know so little about rangers it seemed the most exciting thing in the world to me."

Horace looked doubtful, "I've always been a little scared of Halt. I used to think he was some kind of sorcerer."

Wilt snorted in disbelief, "Halt? a sorcerer? Hes nothing of the kind!"

"But you used to think the same thing!" Horace exclaimed.

"Well... I suppose," Will said, "but I was only a kid then."

"So was I!" Horace countered with devastating logic. The two older rangers laughed.

Will brought the conversation back to its original grounds. "Did you ask Halt to take you as an apprentice?" He continued without room for response, "What did he say to that?"

"I didn't ask him anything," Gilan told them, "I followed him one day when he left our castle and headed into the forest."

"You followed him?" Horace exclaimed in disbelief, "A ranger? You followed a ranger into the Forest?"

Will sprang to Gilan's defense "Gil' and Maia are some of the best unseen movers in the ranger corps!... the best probably."

"I wasn't then," Gilan said ruefully, "Mind you, I though I knew a bit about moving without being seen. I found out how little I actually did know when I tried to sneak up on Halt when he stopped for an evening meal. Next thing I knew his hand grabbed me by the scruff of the next and threw me into a stream."

He smiled at the memory.

"I suppose he sent you home in disgrace then?" Horace mused.

Gilan shook his head, "On the contrary, he kept me with him for a week, said I wasn't too bad at sneaking around in the forest and I might have some talent as an unseen mover. He started to teach me about being a ranger- and by the end of the week I was his apprentice."

"How did your father take it when you told him?" Horace asked, "Surely he wanted you to be a knight like him. I guess he was disappointed."

"Not at all," Gilan told them, "The strange thing was Halt had told him that I'd probably be following him into the forest. My Father had already agreed that I could serve as Halt's apprentice before I even knew I wanted to."

Horace was awestruck. "How could Halt have known that?"

Gilan shrugged and looked at Will meaningfully. She smirked "Halt has a way of knowing things doesn't he, Will?"

"Maybe in his own way, he is kind of a sorcerer?" Will mused.

"Well, what about you Maia?" Horace asked.

She squirmed uncomfortably. "My story is a bit of a downer," she said with a small strangely uncomfortable smile that didn't look right on her face.

Gilan's arm squeezed her a bit in an attempt to reassure her.

She sighed and began, "I never thought I'd get the chance to be anything more than the scum of the street. I didn't have the opportunities you two did..." she looked to the two apprentices with a fond look in her eyes, "You see, my mother left when I was very young... and my father..." she bit her lip, "Well, he was a criminal. He got himself hauled into jail before I could take care of myself. I got involved with bad people and when they dumped me back out onto the streets, I did the only thing I could to survive. I stole... necklaces, rings, swords, daggers," she listed, "Anything that'd fetch a price. Half of it was spent on food... and even then I went hungry half the time..."

The boys were awestruck. Maia? A theif? Well they supposed she had the talent for it...

"By the time I was ten I could steal just about anything from anyone... I started getting offers, jobs." She bit her lip and sighed, "I was young and dumb and I took whatever was offered... that when I started stealing from the nobles and the knights... I was good at it too. I succeed... that was until I tried to pick-pocket a key off of Sir David."

The boys gasped, "You didn't!"

She nodded sadly, "I did... he had a price on my head after that... him and half the lords in the town once they pulled their head far enough out of their asses to see," she couldn't resist adding in the pointed jab. "... He scared the living daylights out of me... almost caught me a few times..." she shivered at the thought. "Anyways, I was thirteen then, and a wanted felon. I still couldn't get a job and I was starving. I figured I get a pretty penny for a ranger's knife..."


	3. Chapter 3

_~ I figured I get a pretty penny for a ranger's knife...~_

Their eyes widened.

"Halt was no easy prey, but as I said, I was good at what I did... I had just. wrapped my hand around the hilt when he picked me up and threw me into the nearest pile a hay." She laughed, "He does seem to enjoy throwing people around."

"He didn't hand you over to the guards?" Horace asked.

She smiled, "No... he asked me where I'd learned to move like that... through the shadows... unseen."

She glanced to Gilan who nodded with a small smile.

"I told him years living in the gutter with the lowest of the low teaches you how to get from place to place. He bought me some food... clothes... and then he took me with him."

Gilan piped up then, "It was quite the shock to see a pretty young girl open the cabin door instead of Halt when I got back."

Maia elbowed him and he laughed, glancing down at her with an amused glint in his brown eyes.

"But I thought you could only have one apprentice?" Will said thoughtfully.

"That's true," she smirked, "But since I was a girl I wasn't technically a ranger apprentice. They didnt allow it."

"They only made her one after she 'proved herself'." Gilan rolled his eyes.

"Even now, they're still not all to happy with me," she added. "But even they have to admit, I'm good at what I do."

The three boys nodded. That she was.

"Well I'm for sleep," Gilan announced, "We're on a war footing these days so we'll set watches. Will, your first, then Horace, then me and Maia. Night!"

Wil and Horace exchanged a glance as the two older Rangers laid down beside one another.

Will couldn't help but notice the close proximity in which the two other rangers slept. Gilan slept on his back one arm cushioning his head, the other strewn over his chest.

Maia slept on her side, not a foot away from Gil.

As he turned to wake Horace a sigh broke out of Gilan as he turned onto his side, his arm falling over Maia who sighed, rolling her shoulder, and leaning into him slight in her slumber.

Will woke Horace with an amused grin.

"Do you think they..." Horace trailed off as a yawn inturrupted his speech.

"I don't know," he told the other boy with an amused grin.

As Horace's shift ended he noticed how the two rangers sleeping position had changed once again. Maia was curled up on herself, Gilan's head on her shoulder and his arms circled around her. If he'd been a girl he might have thought it cute, but he wasnt. He was a knight's apprentice and it simply wasnt proper. They weren't even courting!

"Sir?" He asked, "sir?" And then he remebered, "Gilan?"

The ranger's eye opened, immediately picking up the knight apprentice's voice.

"Gilan?"

"Yes, I'm up, got it," then he realized how he was curled around Maia's sleeping form. He felt the heat rush to his cheeks.

He shook his head, hair falling in his face and extracted his arms from around her. "Go to sleep, Horace."

The boy laid down with barely concealed laughter.

Gilan stood watch that night with drifting focus as his eyes kept coming back to the dark-haired girl beside him. She was snoring softly, something he'd often found laughable. He sighed and turned back to the dark sleeping forest.

Shook her awake gently, her emerald green eyes snapping open. Then she groaned, "My watch already? "

He nodded, "Not enough beauty sleep?"

She snorted, "I don't need beauty sleep, Gil."

He knew for a fact she was joking as the light in her eye was twinkling with humor and that stupid smirk was on her face once again. "Just don't fall asleep on watch."

She shot him a glare, "As if, Gil."

He laughed, "G'night Mai."

"See you in the morning," she smiled softly.

They were on the road again before the sun had risen. The clouds had cleared, A fresh southern wind crisp and cold blew them away. Trees were gnarled and stunted, sickly as the forest was replaced by windblown scrub.

The wind blew constantly on this part of the land. Cold and hard it only became more so as they entered Celtica.

In the evening Gilan continued with Horace's instruction.

"Timing is the essence of the whole thing," he said, "see how you're parrying with your arm locked and rigid?"

Sure enough the boys arm was tight as a bowstring. "But I have to be ready to stop your stroke," he explained.

"Take a swing at me," Gilan told him. Horace did so. "Look... see how I'm doing it?" He asked. "As your stroke is coming my hand and arm are relaxed. Then just before your sword reached the spot where I want to stop it, I make a small counter swing, see?"

He demonstrated, using his hand and wrist to swing the blade in a small arc. "My grip tightens at the last moment, and the greater part of the energy of your swing is absorbed by the movement of my own blade."

Horace seemed doubtful as he nodded. "But what if I mistime it?"

She shook her head at the smile that spread widely across Gilan's face. "Well, in that case, I'll probably just lop your head off your shoulders." She stopped as Gilan paused at Horace disappointed frown.

"The idea is not to mistime it," she added gently, patting his shoulder as she passed.

"But..." the boy began drawing her attention back.

"And the way to develop your timing is?" Gilan interrupted. Horace nodded wearily.

"I know. I know. Practice."

Gilan beamed at the boy. "That's right. So, ready? One and two and three and four, that's better, and three and four... No! No! Just a small movement of the wrist... and one and two..."

The ring of steel echoed through the campsite.

She noticed the slight interest Will had in the swordplay as he sat at the side and decided he should be doing something. Practicing some sort of skill.

The boy watched her with a raised eyebrow as she gathered up the fallen pine cones. Having gathered a good size pile she smirked. "Get ready,"

He drew his bow having a good idea of what this practice would be. He had a feeling this was more to pass the time than to really develop a certain skill, but he was looking forward to it all the same.

She threw the pine cone up in the air a few feet to her left.

Will let the arrow fly, piercing the cone in mid air.

"Haha!" She laughed, clapping her hands together with glee, "You're pretty good!"


End file.
